


Five People Who Wandered In

by Cinaed



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Clan Mitchell, Families of Choice, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-06-05
Updated: 2008-06-05
Packaged: 2017-10-07 14:45:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,234
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/66164
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cinaed/pseuds/Cinaed
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Five people who wandered in and ended up being adopted by the Mitchells.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Five People Who Wandered In

**Author's Note:**

> All original characters, though the ones not created in this story belong to other people, mostly Synecdochic and others who've written in the Clan Mitchell 'verse.

1. Ashton wasn't one to bring in strays, not like Susie Mae or hell, even Cameron, but during the family's stint at Davis-Monthan, he and a boy by the name of Peter McGowan became as thick as thieves, enough so that Cameron sulked for a bit at his brother's hero-worship of someone other than him. Peter sort of slipped into their mist without much bother. Lord knows the boy was polite enough and friendly enough, "sir"ing Daddy and "ma'am"ing Momma. He even won Cameron over, eventually, though he never gave up the secret of how he managed that particular feat.

Momma always swore she'd heard Ash and Peter vowing to be friends forever, in that serious tone only ten-year-olds could muster, and the oath seemed to stick. The Mitchells only stayed at Davis-Monthan for six months before moving on, but Ashton kept in touch with Peter, exchanging letters and the occasional expensive-as-hell phone call when Ashton had saved up enough allowance to afford the luxury. No matter the distance between them though, Ashton had found himself a best friend, and Ashton aimed to keep him.

And so, six years down the line, when word came that Peter's father had been killed in an accident and that there was no kin to take care of the boy (grandparents and mother dead and gone, a streak of bad luck over the past couple of years that had left the poor boy all alone in the world), well, what else was there to do but to take the boy in?

2\. Cam's cousin Carter worked Traffic, but that didn't explain why he'd brought home someone he'd just ticketed for speeding -- 55 in a 25-zone, with no inclination to slow down.

Anabel Sweet was twenty-two, if that, and about a hundred pounds dripping wet, but Carter's mother took one look at the bruise beginning to show around the girl's cornflower blue eye and understood even before Carter shrugged sheepishly and said, by way of explanation, "The shelter was full-up tonight."

She nodded, once, to show she understood, and then smiled one of her famous smiles at Anabel -- a warm, light-up-your-face, infectious grin that no soul alive with a heart could resist -- and said, "Well, I was just about to set the table for dinner. You got any allergies or particular dislikes I need to know about, honey?" as Anabel tentatively smiled back. Anabel stayed that night and the next, and by the end of that week, there was no question that Anabel was going to stay there until she could find her own feet, whether that took weeks or months or even a year or two. They had the room, she could stay as long as she liked. 

(Anabel's no-good boyfriend decided to leave town a couple days later, tail between his legs and a hunted look in his eyes. Anabel never asked what had made him want to leave town, and Carter never volunteered the information. Still, working Traffic sometimes had its perks. Finding various ways to ticket the sorry bastard had been fun, truth be told.)

3\. Jackson Hunter had served most of his tour in Vietnam and would have served out the rest without much fuss, too, 'til he lost both legs to a goddamn mine. He came home, though, mostly intact, which counted for something, and for twenty years and more, he did his best to remember the men he'd served with and forget the horrors he'd witnessed, a contradiction that was near to impossible to accomplish.

Still, he'd done all right for himself, taken over his father's mechanic shop when the old man had passed on, turned it into a thriving business known throughout most of west Texas as being one of the most reliable shops out there. He really shouldn't have been surprised the day a familiar face pulled up and asked Jackson to take a look at his car, a beaten-up Ford that looked to be on its last legs. Jackson didn't recognize him at first, and then it was like a ghost-- well, a ghost that had aged somewhat, but a ghost nonetheless-- had come to visit. Last he'd heard, trying hard to wean himself off morphine and set himself straight, Alvin DeSaussure had been MIA and as good as dead, come to that. But here he was, alive and not much worse for the wear, with some fancy job at Texas A&amp;M.

A few hours and a more than a few drinks later, Alvin had gotten a promise to have the Ford as fixed up as best Jackson could and at no cost, and Jackson had been given an invitation to the next and any family gathering, with a particular emphasis on Great-Aunt Louisa's potato salad (and hell, of course Alvin'd remember Jackson had always loved potato salad-- hadn't the boys teased him enough during his tour about it?).

That next family gathering, Jackson was sitting by Alvin's side, exchanging tips with Alvin's nephew Cameron about tricks on keeping the boy's finicky beauty of a Mustang in tip-top shape.

4\. It was Aunt Sophie who picked up Charlotte off the street, or near enough, as the rest of the family liked to tease her. She always responded tartly that she had a good eye for good stock, of the garden variety and otherwise, and Charlotte was as good as they came. Charlotte didn't offer up where she'd come from and why she'd left or even why she'd been wandering outside of Mechanicsville, looking for work, and Sophie and Jock weren't too fussed wondering and never did bother to ask. What was past was past, after all.

No matter the amount of teasing about snatching the girl off the street, though, or perhaps because of it, Aunt Sophie refused to admit that she'd only planned on Charlotte staying at the farm 'til the fall, helping her and Uncle Jock with the summer crop and then moving on. She certainly hadn't been planning on keeping her, and could only scratch her head and wonder at it, ten years down the line, with Charlotte's two-year-old calling them "Gran'ma Sophie" and "Gran'pa Jock" and ignoring their half-horrified, half-pleased protests.

5\. Momma had been planning Cousin George and Sam's wedding for years, so she raised her eyebrows a bit at the newcomer George introduced as Scott Masefield. Scott was redheaded and freckled, and looked more like a boy than a man, though she knew he was 'round about George's own age.

George and Scott didn't seem inclined to share a bed, though, and George actually laughed when she asked him if they minded sleeping in separate rooms, since they were filled to bursting that year, what with all but one or two of the cousins bringing along significant others, more than usual anyway.

Momma relaxed over the holiday, watching how well Scott fit in with the family, endearing himself forever to Uncle Fred by openly rolling his eyes at the mere mention of the new Star Wars movies, and she smiled at the sight of Alice Mary eyeing him speculative-like, as though weighing her chances.

"Where'd you meet him?" she asked later, allowing a hint of approval to color her voice, and George just smiled like the cat who'd gotten the canary, and the cream besides.

"Thought you'd like him," he said, not answering the question, and laughed at her look.  



End file.
